Screenwriter William Goldman still thinks this should have the title on
his script: "The Sundance Kid and Butch Cassidy," and feels it's only
because Paul Newman, the bigger star, was cast as Butch that he got top
billing over Sundance. That may have been Fox's reason for the title
switch, but it was the right one to make. The rhythms of the words are
better, more pleasing, with Butch listed first, and though Goldman
tried to balance the movie evenly between his two outlaw friends, Butch
is the one we remember best.

But not by much, since 'Butch Cassidy and the
Sundance Kid' is the movie that turned Robert Redford into a major
star. The role had originally been offered to others: Steve McQueen,
Warren Beatty, even Paul Newman himself (who at first expected to play
Sundance to McQueen's Butch). But director George Roy Hill fought hard
for Redford, and his insistance paid off, for audiences as much as for
the actor, for it turned out that Newman's loose, amiable performance
fit perfectly with Redford's taciturn, energy-under-tight-wraps
approach to Sundance. They were a sensationally good match, almost a
comedy team, and it's no wonder that they soon appeared together again,
in 'The Sting.' (In the exceptionally good interviews, done in 1994 for
the laserdisc release, both actors lament that they've never again
found a script worthy of costarring in, but remain good friends.)

This
is a wonderful DVD package, one of the highlights of the medium so far,
even if it was originally prepared for the laserdisc release. Those
interviews are excellent; Newman comes across just like we always hoped
he would -- intelligent, laid-back, confident but not arrogant, a heck
of a nice guy. Redford is edgier, more concerned about details, but
still seems good-hearted and very bright. Katharine Ross is melancholy;
she was living with cinematographer Conrad Hall while making 'Butch
Cassidy,' and did not get along with director Hill. She relates a very
sad incident that no one connected with the film seems to have
forgotten.

There's also an amazingly good "making-of"
documentary, filmed at the time the movie was being made. It was
directed by Hill's assistant Robert Crawford, who had unusual access to
the set. His footage was shot without sound, but the sound we hear was
also recorded on the set at different times; the blend is strangely
impressionistic, and gives a better sense of what it's like to be on a
movie set than almost any other such film I've ever seen.

It's too bad no one thought to mention that both Butch and Sundance had
been characters in movies before, though rarely in the same film. Butch
was first portrayed on screen by Slim Whitaker in 1933's 'Deadwood
Pass,' and over the years by John Doucette, Gene Evans, Howard Petrie,
Neville Brand (twice), Arthur Hunnicutt and John Crawford. Sundance
tended to draw bigger names: Arthur Kennedy played him in 'Cheyenne'
(1947), followed by Robert Ryan, Ian MacDonald, William Bishop and the
Skipper, Alan Hale, Jr.

There's also a narration track; there are some quotes from George Roy
Hill scattered throughout, and they're astute and interesting. But by
far the best stuff comes from Crawford and from Conrad Hall, whose
warmth, intelligence and enthusiasm are infectious and touching. We
also learn unusual sidelights: Hall is the son of James Norman Hall,
who co-wrote "Mutiny on the Bounty," and he grew up in Tahiti. Strother
Martin, in both this and 'The Wild Bunch,' was a champion diver, almost
making the Olympic team. And Crawford tells a lengthy, very amusing
tale about fencing Redford.

Then, of course, there's the movie itself. It's always divided critics;
as the narration and some of the interviewees point out, when it was
released, the movie received mostly terrible reviews. No one liked it
except audiences the world over, who loved it, going back to see it
again and again. The popularity of the film resulted in a later
"prequel," 'Butch and Sundance: The Early Days' with Tom Berenger and
William Katt, three TV movies about Etta Place (one with Ross), and any
number of imitations and knockoffs, such as the TV series 'Alias Smith
and Jones.' There was even an extremely weird Saturday morning cartoon,
'Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kids.'

Some of the luster has been buffed off the film by the passage of time,
and its weaknesses are somewhat more obvious now than they were back
then. The story is extremely slight: Butch and Sundance hold up a
train, get chased by the Super Posse, and flee to Bolivia with
Sundance's lover Etta Place (Ross). There, they try to go straight but
end up robbing banks again, and are gunned down. There are really only
three characters in the film, Butch, Sundance and Etta; the only
antagonist is time itself -- the days of the outlaws are over. The
movie makes just a shade too much of this idea, without the rugged
eloquence Sam Peckinpah brought to much the same idea in 'The Wild
Bunch.' (Itself partly based on Butch Cassidy's "Hole in the Wall
Gang," which was sometimes called The Wild Bunch.) The movie is
sentimental about not being sentimental, and Butch and Sundance never
really cross over from likable movie heroes to real people.

But then, despite the claim at the beginning -- "most of what follows
is true" -- it's really not. It's a comic poem spun out of some of the
elements of the lives of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid; some of
what we see did happen, but not much of it, and what is true is altered
for purposes of the movie. For example, it's clear from the interviews
that Goldman and Redford knew full well that Butch wasn't killed in
Bolivia, but returned to the States to live out his life quietly, far
from the outlaw trail. And they know that while Butch was widely liked
and admired, a rascal with a silver tongue, only Butch liked Sundance,
a cold-eyed killer.

The movie is as amiable as Butch himself, a relaxed canter through
bogus Western history, underscoring the fantasy of their lives with
occasional realism. ("Who ARE those guys?") It's the tale of Butch and
Sundance as Butch himself might have told it, with himself as the hero
the movie suggests he longed to be. (At one point, he decides he and
Sundance should join the Army to fight in the Spanish-American War, so
they can be heroes.) He's wistfully more than half in love with Etta
Place, leading to one of the movie's more memorable moments, when he
shows off on a bicycle to the tune of "Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My
Head." (A pleasant, funny song that became a major hit despite some of
the silliest lyrics ever; sample: "I'm never going to stop the rain by
complaining, because I'm free.")

The movie violates all kinds of unspoken rules of Good Movies -- the
big chase comes in the middle, the nicest guy doesn't get the girl, the
heroes die at the end -- and succeeds not only despite this, but partly
because of this. The deviations from the expected stuff gave 'Butch
Cassidy and the Sundance Kid' a fresh, roguish air; it was a Western
with a twinkle in its eye but also a sad, wry grin -- this, too, shall
pass away.

Thanks to this outstanding DVD, 'Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid'
itself is not going to pass away any time soon. If you have any
fondness for this film, buy this disc.